It does not matter how long your legs are, you can only take one step at a time.

We Danced Anyway

The Universe aligns us with people, situations and things that match our natural vibration.

Laughing, dance parties and hugs. Those are my drugs of choice – all of which are beneficial to my wellbeing. The past two months have proven to be physically and emotionally taxing. My high vibration often challenged by pain. From the beginning, I had two choices: to be a CAN or a CANNOT. There wasn’t a question in my mind, I CAN do anything.

Don’t get me wrong, there have been many days where my positive attitude became flawed by resistance to the present moment. That phrase, I can’t, attempting to hold presence in my vocabulary. I don’t think so. I am a strong-willed woman with a fierce determination. And yet, on those days, I needed a push. A reminder. Help.

The people I have found myself surrounded by, here in Florida, have done just that; given me a push, offered a reminder or just flat out told me to wake up and change my thoughts. On a particularly bad day I said that I had hit a brick wall and was quickly reminded by Dayle that it was not a wall but a small speed bump. In giving compassion to a particularly difficult moment, she opened my eyes. Yes, this was hard AND I would get over it.

This weekend we celebrated another journey around the sun for one fierce woman I am grateful to know. Maybe I sound like a broken record because I know that I have said it before… the people here, my extended family, they are special. As in, there is an ever growing, permanent space in my heart for them. So when there is reason to celebrate something, anything, we do it and we do it right. There was food and there was drink. Then there was music so OF COURSE there was dancing.

That night, my mind was throwing that dreaded I can’t phrase around. Dancing? In my pre-spinal fusion days, I could put new meaning to the saying ‘Dance like no-one is watching.’ Always the first one on and last one off of the dance floor – not an ounce of me caring what I looked like. It’s pretty evident by now that I love to push the envelope in life. But there was NO way, in my mind, that dancing was going to be possible. Unless everyone wanted to bear witness to a woman’s attempt to breakdance, on the floor, resembling a fish out of water flopping around. (I know, you’re probably cringing.) My big heart wanted to save everyone from having to see such a thing. Attempting to dance with a crutch under my arm just seemed like a safety hazard – I envisioned myself or someone else attempting to use it as a prop… Not a good idea.

So I started to lean towards NO dancing. And guess what? That wasn’t an option. Dayle, my most wonderful physical therapist, personal masseuse, informal shrink and fellow hug dealer grabbed one arm and yelled at her husband to take the other and ‘hold me up.’ So there I was, a part of the circle, standing on my own two feet, dancing like the rusty tin man, sandwiched between two amazing friends, being a YES and saying I CAN. There were three of us, post-op patients, who got up and busted our own little moves. In a moment where we could have easily said NO, WE CAN’T… we danced anyway.

These are my people. They say and enable others to say YES and I CAN.

Yes to the uncomfortable and to hugs. Yes to laughter and to margaritas. Yes to holding eachother up on the dance floor and playing DJ. Yes to conquering possibility and accepting what is hard. Yes to resilience and love. Yes to leaning into life’s lessons and kindness. Yes to differences and bringing people together.